


Stories aren't Always Fiction

by orphan_account



Series: Of Butterflies and Honesty [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Magic Reveal, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Of Butterflies and Honesty.  Merlin starts to tell Arthur some of the things he's used his magic for. He also decides it may be time to tell Morgana the truth as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

It takes longer than Merlin expects for Arthur to begin asking him any questions about his magic. When they’d first arrived back in Camelot Merlin had been surprised to find that the city was exactly the same as they’d left it and that the occupants of the castle had all treated him as they always had. It felt like everything about his life had changed out in the woods when Arthur had learned he was a sorcerer. Surely things couldn’t just go back to the way they were? And yet they did. It was as if nothing had ever happened, like it had almost been a dream, except Merlin knew it wasn’t because he had a sore wrist and every so often he’ll catch Arthur deep in thought, a pensive look in his eyes, one that disappears as soon as he notices Merlin is looking. 

It takes a week for Arthur to bring it up. It’s already late, and while he's spent most of the evening drinking quietly by the fire in his room, every time Merlin tries to leave Arthur tells him to stay a little longer. At first he comes up with tasks for Merlin to do, tasks that could easily wait till the morning, or until next week, and eventually Arthur stopped trying and just told him to stay. So Merlin sits next to the fire, leaning his back against the wall and decides he might fall asleep there. He's just managed to drift off, lulled by the warmth and the crackling from the fire when Arthur speaks.

"The windstorm, in Ealdor, that was you."

It isn’t a question, not really, but judging by the silence that follows Arthur seems to be waiting for a response. Merlin nods, eyes still closed. 

"Are you going to be awake for this, or will I be conversing with a sleeping man?"

Merlin considers not answering, but he's been living in a state of constant trepidation for a week already and he knows it is better to get it over with. He opens his eyes, raising his gaze to meet Arthur's. The prince is watching him closely, and Merlin shivers under the intensity of his gaze. 

"What else?"

"Have I done?"

Arthur nods, his eyes not leaving Merlin's, waiting for him to continue.

"Everything," Merlin whispers.

"Tell me?" It is a question this time, an offer, not a command.

Merlin breaks eye contact first and glances towards the fire, staring into the flames as if they hold all the answers to the uncertainty inside of him. And then he starts to talk, to tell Arthur his story from the beginning. There are times Arthur doesn't even remember and times that Arthur wonders how he hadn't realized anything before. The snakes coming alive on Valiant's shield unbidden, and the light guiding Arthur as he searched for the flower that would save Merlin's life after Merlin willingly drank poison to save his life.

"Gauis told me--after I drank the poison--that I was whispering about you, that I created a light in my palm. I don't even know how, I don't know what I did." 

"There was a globe, a light. It guided me while I... when I was trying to find the flower. At first I thought that the witch sent it to finish me off, but it. I don't know. It comforted me, somehow, it got me out," Arthur explains, interrupting for the first time since Merlin had begun. 

Merlin smiles softly, meeting Arthur's eyes once more. "I think my magic likes you more than I do sometimes."

Arthur scoffs, than waves a hand, a signal for Merlin to continue.

It isn't easy. There are times when Arthur can see tears form in his eyes, like when they fall silently as Merlin tells of how he'd killed Nimueh after trying to sacrifice himself in order to save Arthur and then his mother. 

They've been talking for several hours when Merlin falls silent once more, after Arthur offhandedly mentions the day Morgana had first disappeared. 

"I think I need some sleep now, sire, if it’s all the same to you," Merlin finally says.

Arthur nods, looking around as if coming out of a trance as he realizes how late, or early, it has become.  
"Right, of course. Well, I'm sure Gaius is wondering where you've been. Or maybe not, if all your stories are anything to go by."

The ghost of a smile graces Merlin's lips but doesn't reach his eyes, and Arthur wonders what thoughts are filling his head after their talk.

"There is more, Arthur. But I think. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Of course. When you're ready. I've plenty to think about already. All you've done for me."  
Merlin only nods, finally rising to his feet and making his way towards the door. He pauses before exiting, hand on the doorknob, turning only his head to speak. 

"Thank you, Arthur. For listening, for trusting me. I know you don't like having to hide things from your father, but... just, thank you."

He leaves before Arthur can reply.

Xxx

Once Merlin had started talking he'd found it difficult to stop. The stories had flown easily once they were begun, and while Merlin had forgotten some small details he remembered enough to tell Arthur all he wanted to know. When Arthur had mentioned Morgana however, Merlin had found the words drying up again. He didn't know how to tell Arthur about Morgana's visions, or if he should. He didn't know how to tell him that he'd poisoned her, sent her into Morgause's arms. And after that, how to tell about his father, and that he was now a Dragonlord, and that the great dragon wasn't dead. All these thoughts had suddenly overwhelmed Merlin and he found himself incredibly tired, suddenly unable to continue. 

He isn't surprised to find that Gaius is already asleep when he returns to his rooms. He barely manages to pull off his boots before falling into bed and into sleep. 

Merlin wakes late the next morning. He didn't expected Arthur to let him sleep in, but he isn't surprised by the indulgence either. There wasn't any need for Merlin to serve him that morning anyways, no matters of state to attend or nobles to greet. Even after he'd woken he lays in bed, thinking, knowing he'll have to continue his conversation with Arthur eventually and questioning what he should say. He knows it isn't his place to tell Arthur of Morgana's visions and very possible magical capabilities. It would be too difficult and painful for both of them to discuss that issue without full disclosure, so Merlin decides he will skip over that story for the time being. He also decides that he’ll talk to Morgana, something he should have done long ago. Now that he knows that Arthur will keep his secret he has no doubts that he would be willing to keep Morgana's as well, should she choose to confide in him. But that has to be her own decision, not one Merlin makes for her.

So, he will tell Arthur instead of the loss of his father and the additional responsibility he holds now, as a Dragonlord.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tells Arthur that he is a Dragonlord and that the great dragon Kilgarrah is still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update this story. There's really no excuse. But here it is! I hope you all like it. There will be one more chapter after this one. But don't worry, its already written and ready to go. No more ridiculously long waits.

When he finally leaves his room Merlin goes straight to Arthur’s. Arthur is there, sitting at his desk, sorting through some papers. He doesn’t look up when Merlin enters, not right away, and for some strange reason Merlin isn’t sure what to do. He closes the door softly, then leans back against it, one hand still on the doorknob, ready to make a break for it if he must. Maybe after hearing the stories that Merlin had told him last night Arthur will have changed his mind and decided that he doesn’t trust Merlin and has decided to turn him into his father after all and…

  
“Merlin!” Arthur calls, loud and insistent.

  
Merlin looks up to see Arthur watching him expectantly, one eye brow raised, and Merlin wonders how many times Arthur has already said his name.

  
“Yes, m’lord?”

  
“Is there a reason you’re still standing there? Does the door require your presence in order to stay closed?”

  
“Um, what? No, I just—I don’t know,” Merlin mutters, caught off guard by the question.

  
“Right,” Arthur drawls out slowly, but then his expression turns soft. “I've told my father that I’m feeling ill and not quite up to leading the knights today. I have the whole day free, if you wish to continue our conversation from last night."  

When he offers his voice is surprisingly soft, and Merlin knows he isn't demanding or pressuring him but presenting an option. Merlin is grateful for the choice but he doesn't want to prolong this process any longer than he already has.

“Yes, I’d like that, if you’re sure.”

  
“Good. Why don’t you run down to the kitchens and get us an early lunch. By the time you return I’ll have finished these and we can continue without interruption,” the prince says, turning back to the pages on his desk.

  
Merlin leaves to do as Arthur has said, practically running through the corridors to the kitchens. The head cook gives him a dubious look as he comes through the door, panting.

  
“Running a bit late today, Merlin?”

  
“What? Oh, uh, not quite. Actually, the prince isn’t feeling well today and didn’t want to be disturbed this morning. But now he’s hungry.”

  
“And I suppose you are, too?”

  
“Well. Yes actually. Now that you mention it,” Merlin replies, giving her a cheeky smile.

  
One of the kitchen maids chuckles nearby and Merlin is again reminded that as far as everyone else in the castle is concerned everything is the same as it has always been. He tries to act normal as he waits, but he can’t seem to stand still. There is a nervous energy running through him which makes standing still and quiet seem almost impossible. He receives several sideways glances from those in the kitchen before he’s finally handed a platter with two plates and cups. He smiles and nods and barely has the platter in both hands before he’s off, walking as fast as he can without spilling or dropping anything.

  
Merlin stops in front of Arthur’s door before going in, taking a moment to collect himself and calm his breathing as well as his heart, which is beating so loudly he thinks Arthur can probably hear it from inside his chambers; a combination of nerves and his fast pace as he returned from the kitchens contributing to his racing heart and the blood pounding in his ears. Finally he feels calm enough to go in, so he steels himself for the morning to come and enters Arthur’s chambers.

  
The prince is still at his desk but he no longer has a pile of papers in front of him. Instead he is twirling a quill in his fingers, gazing absently towards an empty corner of the room, and Merlin wonders for a moment if Arthur is nervous as well. He goes to the table and sets down the platter, than stands awkwardly, unsure once more as he had been earlier that morning, waiting for Arthur to make the next move. The sound of the platter being set down seems to draw Arthur from his thoughts, and he glances over, seemingly surprised as if he hadn’t noticed that Merlin had returned.

  
“Sit, Merlin. We can talk as we eat,” he orders, standing and making his way towards the table to join Merlin.

  
Merlin obeys, sitting in the chair closest to Arthur’s usual spot. He places a plate in front of Arthur as the prince sits before taking his own. He takes a cup as well and briefly wishes that the wine served by the kitchen was just a little stronger.

  
They eat in silence for several minutes. Arthur glances up at him every so often but never pushes, and again Merlin is surprised at Arthur’s patience and consideration towards him in this matter. He had expected an intense interrogation, possibly while sitting in a cell in the dungeons. He isn’t stalling necessarily, but he is having a hard time finding the words to start the next bit of his story. Finally he gives up on tact and begins to talk.

  
“Do you remember the Dragonlord, Balinor?”

  
Arthur has just taken a bite, of course, because Merlin’s timing has always been impeccable. The prince nods and chews faster, gesturing in a way that Merlin takes as a sign to continue.

  
“Before we left to find him Gaius told me some of the man’s history. He told me that he helped Balinor escape Camelot and your father and sent him to a place just over the border where Gauis thought he’d be safe. A village called Ealdor,” Merlin began, looking up to watch Arthur’s reaction when he mentioned the name of the village.  
Arthur stilled, swallowing and almost choking, but remained silent despite the questions that Merlin could see forming in his mind.

  
“While Balinor was there he met a woman. She knew the risk—that he was a wanted man—but she sheltered him anyways. They fell in love, but Balinor couldn't stay. Uther learned of his whereabouts and Balinor was forced to leave after barely two months of being with the woman he loved.”

  
Merlin paused again, fighting past the lump in his throat.

  
Before he could continue Arthur spoke, “He didn't leave her alone, did he?” he asked quietly.

  
Merlin’s head snaps up in surprise at the conclusion Arthur has drawn, mouth opening and closing silently as he searched for a response.

  
“I’m a Dragonlord,” he manages finally, maintaining eye contact with Arthur as he confesses.

  
Arthur sits back in his chair and lets out a heavy breath. “This is… a lot to take in. I thought I’d come to terms with this new version of you, but… I guess there’s more,” Arthur mused.

  
“This is all, I swear. The rest is just… things I've done. Oh well, no I guess that’s not true either,” Merlin faltered as he remembered the way Mordred had called him Emrys and the various prophesies he’d heard that surrounded himself and Arthur.

  
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, but then frowned suddenly, looking away with narrowed eyes for a moment before turning back to Merlin.

  
“You cried when he died. I remember how affected you were by his death, but I thought that it was only because he’d died protecting you. If I’d known he was your father… oh God, Merlin. He died in your arms and you didn’t say a thing.”

  
Merlin nodded mutely, suddenly overcome with emotions as he remembered that day. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and looked away, wiping the back of his sleeve across his eyes.

  
“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” Arthur said quietly, gently covering Merlin’s clenched hand with one of his own.

  
“I wish I could have known him longer,” Merlin whispered.

  
Arthur gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away and Merlin straightened once more, knowing that Arthur was less likely to be as understanding about his next confession.

  
“Arthur, when you fought the dragon he didn’t flee because you’d injured him. I sent him away,” he explained.

  
Arthur’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, sent him away? Are you saying he isn’t dead?”

  
“No, he’s very much alive. My father told me how to kill him before he died, and I thought I could do it, but when the time came, I couldn’t. We’re the last of our kind, kin, and I couldn’t kill the dragon after watching my father die the same day. I ordered him never to attack Camelot or its people again and sent him away.”

  
Merlin found that he couldn’t bring himself to meet Arthur’s eyes. The dragon had done so much damage, killed so many, and Merlin had let him fly away from it all unscathed.  
“Merlin, he attacked the city, he killed people!” Arthur exclaimed, clearly thinking about the same things as Merlin, “and you’re saying he’s still out there? That he could return at any moment and we’d be at his mercy once more?”

  
Merlin shook his head emphatically, cowed under the anger and disbelief in Arthur’s voice. This was the first time the prince had reacted to Merlin’s confessions with anything other than patient understanding, and it was the reaction that Merlin had been expecting since the day Arthur had found out about his magic, but that didn’t make it any easier to face.

  
“No, no he won’t attack again, he can’t. He can’t refuse or disobey the order I gave him,” Merlin explained, voice sincere and gaze earnest as he sought to disperse Arthur’s fears. “I couldn’t do anything before we left, but when my father died I inherited his powers. When I speak the dragon must obey,” he insisted.

  
“Everyone thinks I killed the dragon, all this time I’ve been praised for something I never did. What if he comes back and everyone finds out that he isn’t dead? What do you think my father will do?”

  
“I’m sorry, Arthur. I’m sorry for putting you into this position and for lying to you about the true events of that night. But I’m not sorry for sparing Kilgarrah,” Merlin confessed.  
Kilgarrah had only been acting in retribution towards Uther’s slaughter of the other dragons, and Merlin could not fault him for that, though he did not agree with the killing of innocents. Merlin kept these thoughts to himself though. He did not want to speak out against Uther to Arthur. He knew that Arthur didn’t always agree with his father, and recent events had shown them both just how far the apple had fallen from the tree. But that didn’t mean that Arthur didn’t love Uther, or that he was no longer loyal to his father and king.

  
“It has a name?” Arthur asked wearily.

  
“Yes?” Merlin replied hesitantly. “And he can speak. He’s very wise, although not always the most helpful. I used to visit him in the caves below the dungeons but I usually left more confused than I’d been before. I’m not sure it was even worth it most the time because it took a bit of doing to make it past the guards but I got pretty good at it,” Merlin explained, rambling on to cover his uncertainty in the face of Arthur’s anger.

  
“Gods, Merlin, sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive!” Arthur exclaimed suddenly, standing abruptly and walking away from the table while running a hand through his hair.  
Merlin winced slightly at the outburst. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned that bit about the guards.

  
Arthur paced back a forth for several moments before returning to the table and walking straight to where Merlin was sitting uncertainly in his chair. Arthur leaned in, placing a hand on either of the armrests and boxing Merlin in. Merlin leaned as far back as he could in face of Arthur’s anger, but did not look away.

  
“I need to know where your loyalty lies, Merlin,” Arthur said, voice low and solemn. “You said the dragon was your kin, that you could not kill him. I must know, if the time came and Camelot faced a magical threat, would you stand with me or with those who oppose me?”

  
Merlin found that he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Arthur was holding him captive with the intensity of his gaze, the importance of this question conveyed through his eyes and the tone of his voice. Merlin shook his head once.

  
“I will never betray you, Arthur. If I thought that Kilgarrah would harm even a hair of your head or destroy one more piece of grass in Camelot I would never have let him live. If ever someone with magic is truly a threat to you or to Camelot I will not let them stand. Nimueh offered an alliance but I refused and now she is dead and you are still alive, and so shall it be with any who seek to do as she did,” Merlin swore, hoping that the expression of sincerity in his own eyes and the bit of binding magic he let slip into his words would be enough to assure Arthur of his loyalty and disperse his doubt.

  
Merlin sat straighter, no longer cowering against the back of the chair while Arthur remained where he was, eyes scanning Merlin’s face. Merlin leaned forward until all he could see were Arthur’s eyes and he could feel Arthur’s breath on his face. He placed his own hands over Arthur’s and grasped them tightly.

  
“I know I’ve lied and that I’ve made it hard for you to trust me. But I swear on my life and on my magic that I have never acted against you and I never will. It is my destiny to protect you and to help you to become the great king I know you can be.”

  
Arthur narrowed his eyes just slightly and in that Merlin felt as if the prince was looking into his very soul. He’d never been so laid bare before in his life, with no more secrets left to tell, able only to wait for either acceptance or rejection.

  
Finally Arthur dropped his eyes away from Merlin’s and his gaze fell to linger on Merlin’s lips. He shifted his stance and for a moment it seemed as if he was moving in closer, but then he pulled away, hands sliding out from under Merlin’s as he straightened and stepped back.

  
“I believe you, Merlin.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's thoughts on what Merlin has to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit that this chapter is a little pointless. It shows Arthur's point of view on Merlin's confessions, but nothing new really happens. I wanted to show Arthur's side of things though, so here it is, short and sweet. Enjoy!

When he’d finally broached the subject of Merlin’s magic the night before Arthur had thought that he’d had ample amounts of time to work through the anger and betrayal he’d felt towards Merlin since learning of his magic in the woods a week ago. In truth he’d only waited so long to discuss these things further with his servant because he wanted to be sure that he could do so calmly and fairly, without causing Merlin to fear once more that Arthur wanted him dead.

For the most part what Merlin had told him had only cause him to feel humbled and a little bit in awe of the man before him. He wondered at Merlin’s resiliency and his ability to face death and immense threats without showing any signs of his struggles to those who knew him best. 

Merlin had killed for Arthur, watched friends die needlessly, and yet the boy was still cheerful and unassuming. Arthur could remember the first time he’d killed anyone and how it had taken a few days for him to really start feeling normal again afterward. The prince found himself wishing that he’d known of Merlin’s struggles at the time if only so that he could have comforted the other man and supported him in the aftermath. But Merlin had had Gauis for that, at least. 

This was a fact that Arthur had gleaned on his own from Merlin’s stories. Although Merlin had not outright admitted whether or not the physician knew or supported Merlin’s magic it was clear that the man had to have known and was probably quite helpful in Merlin’s endeavors. As Arthur lay in bed after talking with Merlin through the night he thought that he might need to talk to Gauis about some things later as well.

Arthur’s suspicions were confirmed that morning when Merlin began his story about Balinor. If Gauis knew so much of the Dragonlord’s past then he clearly knew of Merlin’s as well. Arthur hadn’t a clue what Merlin was getting at what when the first thing he had mentioned that morning was Balinor the Dragonlord, but once he mentioned the man’s stay in his village, Ealdor, Arthur’s mind began to race as he started to put the pieces together. He knew that Merlin had grown up in Ealdor without ever knowing who his father was, and he remembered how much the man’s death had affected his manservant. 

“He didn’t leave her alone, did he?” he asked, unintentionally voicing his own conclusions to Merlin’s story aloud.

Merlin’s reaction was as much of a confession as the one he voiced moments later. Once more Arthur was forced to reevaluate his opinion of the slight boy in front of him. But even this new revelation was not enough to make Arthur angry. Rather he found himself deeply sad once more, knowing that Merlin had suffered greatly, had watched his father die in his arms and had been unable to truly express his grieve or mourn his passing properly. Another sacrifice Merlin had made for Arthur.

It wasn’t until Merlin’s confession that the great dragon was still alive that Arthur grew truly angry. He wasn’t angry about the lies. He was used to those by now. He was angry because the dragon had killed his people and threatened his city, and he thought that he’d defeated that threat. In every other story Merlin had told him, every other lie he’d revealed, Merlin had always managed to defend Arthur and Camelot, but not this time. This time Merlin had allowed a magical enemy of Camelot to live and to escape.

Merlin knew the dragon by name, called him kin. If the dragon returned, would Merlin side with it once more? Merlin insisted that the dragon would obey his commands, but how did he know for sure? Arthur had maintained his trust in Merlin till now despite all the lies and yet somehow this one little detail was enough to make Arthur question where Merlin’s loyalty truly lay. 

Arthur had been pacing as he considered these things but needed to be close to Merlin when he confronted him on this, close enough to see the truth of his words in his eyes. He approached his servant quickly, trapping him in his seat so he couldn’t escape Arthur’s question. While he didn’t want to frighten Merlin the way he had a week ago, he did intend to make the boy uncomfortable, hoping to offset him enough that whatever reactions Merlin displayed would be honest ones. 

He’d never once questioned Merlin’s loyalty before but he did so now, solemnly but without anger or any hint of threat, and Merlin never once looked away from him. Arthur felt a shiver of energy run over him as Merlin spoke and he knew somehow that what Merlin said was true. There was a strange quality to his words as he swore death to Arthur’s enemies.

When Merlin placed his own hands over Arthur’s and leaned in close to speak of destiny and the future Arthur felt something deep in his chest that he had never felt before. It was as if something inside of him had been slightly off, somehow wrong up till now, and Merlin made it right. The intensity of the deep blue of his servant’s eyes became too much and he had to look away. As his gaze fell he found himself drawn to Merlin’s lips and overwhelmed with a need to seal their moment in a deeper way and he almost moved the scant inches needed to meet Merlin’s lips with his before he caught himself and moved away.

He said the only thing he could think to say then.

“I believe you, Merlin. I think it is abundantly clear that in all your dealings since coming to Camelot your actions have spoken louder than your words.”

He could see that Merlin was nodding but wasn’t quite ready to meet his servant’s gaze once more. 

“Now, what is this destiny you mentioned?”

**Author's Note:**

> There will be at least one more chapter, possibly two. Coming fairly soon too, hopefully. My roommate moved out so I'm going to have a lot of time alone to myself to think deeply and write. I get a little overwhelmed trying to write this sort of thing because really, there is SO MUCH that could be included. All the stories and emotions and responses and, oi, just a lot. So hopefully I do it enough justice. We'll see. Let me know if you feel like it needs more or less of anything.


End file.
